


Substantially Smaller

by Artemis_Dreamer



Series: Squishy MegOp [8]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cybertronian Winter-ish, Dessert & Sweets, Drabble, Fat Robots, Fluff, Food/Feeding Kink, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post War, Weight Gain, belly stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9341096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: Apparently, Megatron was being serious - the excess weight on their frames did in fact function as insulation, protecting them from the cold.---In which our favorite chubby mechs drink hot chocolate during a lunar eclipse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is a work of fetish fiction, involving weight gain, unhealthy eating, and belly stuffing.
> 
> Don't like, don't read.

Once each millennium, the planet Cybertron was bathed in the shadow of a lunar eclipse. It only lasted for a single decaorn, but it was a bitterly cold decaorn during which no light reached the planet's surface. 

Today was the third orn of the first eclipse of the New Golden Age - the first eclipse since the end of the war. High spirits, however, did little to mitigate the cold. The streets of Iacon were deserted, and no sane mech dared to venture outside for fear of freezing solid. 

Megatron was many things, but he was not a sane mech. The warlord currently sat on the open-air balcony of the quarters he shared with his conjunx, watching as a vibrant aurora scintillated across the lightless sky. 

His claws trailed soothingly over the bulging plating of his chassis, the metal strained from his earlier overindulgence. The frigid temperatures had made every bite of fuel all the more delicious, but dear Primus, he'd eaten too much.

As he took a sip from his mug of hot chocolate, which frankly contained more marshmallows than liquid, his conjunx stepped out onto the balcony to join him.

"It's unwise to be outside in these temperatures," Optimus reprimanded, clearly not keen on staying outside for even a moment longer than necessary. "Our systems are vulnerable to the cold."

"Hardly," Megatron scoffed. "In case you've forgotten, Prime, I'm well insulated." The warlord gestured to his heavy frame with a smirk.

Optimus hadn't forgotten. It was hard to forget something that he couldn't keep his optics off of. Every inch of his conjunx had become soft and rounded, padded generously with fat. The warlord was frelling huge, and was becoming larger with each passing orn as he indulged himself in every type of organic fuel known to mech.

Optimus had spent Primus knows how long just staring at every curve of Megatron’s massive frame, and never ceased to be amazed by how gorgeous the warlord looked. He believed that the technical term was "sexy as all Pit"?

Megatron's smirk broadened as he noticed that the other mech was staring again. His Prime had never been one for subtlety. His chubby little Prime. 

"Join me," Megatron gestured invitingly to the bench on which he sat. "Or is your own insulation still insufficient?"

Might as well have some company, after all. There was no way in Pit he'd be able to move for at least another cycle, not after the way he'd gorged himself. 

Optimus exvented with fond exasperation, but accepted the warlord's teasing challenge. Shoving his conjunx over to make room for his own admittedly large aft, the Prime joined Megatron on the creaking bench. 

The air was frigid, and stirred by a surprisingly stiff breeze. However, Optimus discovered that he wasn't nearly as affected by it as he should have been. None of his components ached with cold, no ice formed in his joints, and no warnings popped up on his HUD.

Apparently, Megatron was being serious - the excess weight on their frames did in fact function as insulation, protecting them from the cold. Well, from the worst of the cold. Optimus shivered a bit, and Megatron rolled his optics. 

"Clearly insufficient." He observed dryly, handing Prime the mug of hot chocolate. 

Optimus drank gratefully, the warmth of the beverage heating his chilled frame. A smile on his faceplates, he allowed himself to be pulled into Megatron's comfortable embrace. The warlord's servo toyed with a soft fold of plating along the Prime's hip, and Optimus shivered again, this time with pleasure.

"So, in the interest of surviving the eclipse," the Prime's tone was lighthearted and filled with the sort of wry amusement that only his conjunx could elicit. "How would you recommend that I improve my insulation?"

Megatron chuckled, sending vibrations quivering through their plush frames. "Here," the warlord grinned, pulling a large container from his subspace and placing it in the Prime's lap. The container was filled with shortbread cookies, freshly baked by the smell of them.

No doubt they had been made by Soundwave. These days, the masked mech was constantly baking something or other to help sate his Lord's vast appetite, often with the aid of his mischievous cassettes.

Optimus immediately dug into the cookies, noting how rich and buttery they tasted. Pit, he didn't want to think about how fattening they probably were - his goal was to remain substantially smaller than his gluttonous conjunx. 

Speaking of his conjunx, Megatron hadn't so much as sampled a single one of the delicious cookies he'd placed before the Prime. Optimus arched an optic ridge with confusion - since when had the warlord needed an invitation to share in his fuel?

"You're welcome to have some," he pointed out, tone uncertain.

Megatron took a cookie from the container and raised it briefly to his lipplates, before shaking his helm and handing it back to the Prime. "Primus knows you need it more than I do," he retorted, pinching a particularly thick roll of his conjunx's protoform. 

Optimus narrowed his optics. This went beyond Megatron's desire for a chubbier Prime. This was Megatron's prideful way of admitting that he had severely overindulged, that he was in a state where he couldn't so much as force himself to take another bite of fuel, no matter how delicious. 

Apparently, Megatron had spent the last two cycles out here for purposes other than "quiet contemplation" - the lying fragger had just wanted to stuff himself senseless without having to share his fuel.

A quick glance to the far side of the bench revealed five containers identical to the one in Prime's lap, all empty. Optimus ran a quick calculation, optics widening. He knew Megatron's specs. Pit, it shouldn’t have even been possible for his conjunx to eat that much!

Megatron met his incredulous optics with a knowing smirk. Optimus shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the warlord's unspoken challenge.

He refused to lose to a Decepticon.

Suffice to say that by the end of the eclipse, Optimus would no longer be even slightly smaller than his conjunx.

**Author's Note:**

> The heat's out in my apartment and I'm freaking freezing. What I wouldn't do for chubby robot cuddles right about now. XD
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
